


Ethereal

by ashangel101010



Category: Chaotic (Cartoon)
Genre: Gen, One-Shot, origin story for Skithia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-30
Updated: 2015-07-30
Packaged: 2018-06-10 07:42:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6946126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashangel101010/pseuds/ashangel101010
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Her happiness died when his song ended.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ethereal

Ethereal

*

            The land is black and shiny like the ground is made of volcanic glass. There are wisps of white vapor that envelope the land like smoke in taverns; it is not water mist, but muggy steam. It is raining dingy soot that stains her raggedy clothes with volcanic ash. It’s quiet here like no Creatures have ever existed here. She likes it here. She’ll be the only one who gets to hear his song.

Her home, always will be her home as long as he’s alive, is nothing but a one-room shack with an outhouse. She likes this too because they’ll get to share a bed together. The ends of her ghostly hair flicker with blue flames; the only part of her body that has actual warmth.

_“O Ethereal Blue, far from home,_

_Far from life,_

_Far from you,_

_So far from me.”_

Her father is singing in the shack. She runs inside with a ghost of a smile on her intense face.

*

They will live here together for the foreseeable future. At least, that’s what her father told her. She is happy with the news. She never really liked being around other Creatures. They looked at her, even the badly burned ones, like she was an omen. They did not judge her by her looks; she is physically her father molded into a little girl’s body. They judged her by the intensity in her frightening eyes and her fire that she inherited from her mother.

Her mother wasn’t beautiful; her father didn’t lie to her like an UnderWorlder would. Her mother was a hag. She was old even before her father was born. She was wrinkly and fat like all hags were from fairytales. No one trusted her because of her silent intensity like she was plotting something horrible. But he fell for her all the same.

Her father is beautiful, so very beautiful. Almost untouchable like he is a piece of the Cothica. If he was born in the OverWorld, then maybe he could’ve been worshipped like the fragile beauty he is. But he wasn’t. He is perhaps the most beautiful UnderWorlder alive, but he’s also the weakest. Even summoning a Flame Orb causes him great pain. An UnderWorlder that cannot fight is as good as dead.

But he can sing. He is the last of the troubadours; they were comprised of the weakest UnderWorlders that would go around the UnderWorld and sing. Some of the songs can be for war. Others could be for _love_. Sometimes, the songs just existed to be sung.

_“Only two of you,_

_And then just you.”_

But then, there are songs that are cryptic like prophecies. Like the song her father has been singing lately. The only song he’s been singing since they arrived here.

*

Skithia likes to watch her father from the only doorway of the shack. He likes to go outside and sit on the glassy ground. He closes his angular eyes and tilts his head up to the murky sky. His long, white hair with flecks of blue pools on the ground like clean snow. His blue lips curl in titillation like someone praised him.

_“She flickers through the mist_

_Like frozen flames._

_Twists and turns_

_Like whips of thorns.”_

His face is being dirtied by the volcanic ash that likes to rain here every other day. His white hair has smudges like charcoal against paper. He is unbothered and continues his song. The same song that he has been singing since they arrived here.

_“She hungers for_

_His dying love.”_

He gets up and wipes his face with the sleeve of his black cloak. He goes towards the doorway and smiles at her. He tells her that it’s time to make dinner. She smiles mutely and goes inside, clutching her father’s skeletal arm. Dinner tastes like powdery Thanatos blossoms.

*

He doesn’t get out of bed. He doesn’t lie to her like UnderWorlders would. He tells her that his song is ending. She trembles and says nothing. He holds her hand as tightly as he can. His grip is like light, warm and feckless.

_“O Ethereal Blue, always burning_

_Blue and coldly,_

_Strong and beautifully,_

_Living eternally.”_

She smiles. It’s hopeless for her to stop herself. She’s always been happy when her father sang. Especially to her. He’s singing his swan song just for her. She’s never been this happy before!

_“She nestles in the shadows_

_Like stars in the night.”_

He rises momentarily to kiss her cold cheeks. He falls down like her tears. Silently.

_“O Ethereal Blue, the last flame burning in the mist.”_

His song has ended. The last of the troubadours is gone. She coughs and tries to suck in her tears. Strong UnderWorlders don’t cry for the inevitable like the death of someone as weak as her father. But more importantly, what’s the point in crying if her father isn’t going to soothe her? She’ll never be serenaded by his soothing voice when she cries. She’ll never be embraced by him when she’s lonely. She’ll never smile again.

*

The little wooden shack is consumed by blue fire. All that is left of the home is black ash. A little, intense girl emerges from the ash. She is engulfed in blue flames, but she is still alive. She walks into the mist. She flickers like the last flame burning in the mist.

*

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s Comments- For those who haven’t read A Legend, Thanatos blossoms are UnderWorld flowers that only appear around burial places and have long been associated with death. Thanatos blossoms have twisted, blacken stems that wrap around a corpse’s body; the petals are maroon in color and shaped like butterfly wings. The flower smells like smelted copper and sweet brimstone. Basically, I created these flowers for the UnderWorld because I don’t know the flora (if there’s actually any) of the UnderWorld. 
> 
> Now, back to the story, Skithia is a character that I always wanted to write a one-shot for. This will perhaps be the only one-shot about her past that I will write. It will also be referenced in stories with her. Like in Forces. I don’t think she ever once spoke in the cartoon and her card gives her a silent, frightening presence. I don’t think she ever once smiled in the show or even on any of her cards. So I believe that something must’ve happened in her past to make her this way. 
> 
> You’ll also notice that Skithia’s father is described to be beautiful, while her mother is ugly. I always planned to make the father beautiful because I was inspired by Akito’s father from Fruits Basket and Arima’s dad from Kare Kano. At first, I was going to make Skithia’s mother beautiful, but I then thought about if I ever read a story where the mother was ugly. None came to mind, so I decided to pull a reverse Beauty and the Beast for her parents. 
> 
> The song that the father sings is actually something I created. Originally, I was going to use a poem I wrote back in high school as the song, but I noticed that none of my poetry would fit this story. So I decided to make-up one on the spot. Yeah, I’m not a lyricist nor do I ever plan on being one, but I hope it’s not too bad. It’s the best I could do since poetry isn’t my passion. If any of you are wondering about the song’s title, I call it: Blue Flames. For those who have read Forces, you’ll get that reference. Also, please let me know if there are any grammatical or spelling errors. I am my own editor, so I can’t catch everything.


End file.
